Witch Weasley
by Skippy-the-Rabbit
Summary: one-shot Hermione accidentally lets slip to Ron that she's faniced all of his brothers. But what will he say when he finds out which one she likes now? R


**DISCLAIMER: Obviously, it's not mine. Harry Potter & co. belong to JK Rowling, and I'm not her, sadly. No copyright infringement is intended, no profits were made from the writing of this fan fiction. Please don't sue me, as I have no money. Thank you :)**

**WARNING: References to alcohol and drunk peoples. If that offends you, please don't read. **

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"Hello, Ron!"

Was it my imagination, or was she slurring her words? "S'good party, ishn't it?"

She was slurring her words. "Mm going to get another drink. You want one too?"

Oh, my God. Hermione Granger was drunk.

Mind you, so were many other people. It was Luna's coming-of-age party after all, so God only knows what she'd put in the drinks. I wasn't drinking, as I had to take a potion to re-grow my little toe on my left foot, which I had splinched off whilst apparating. Mum had said not to drink, 'cause "all sorts of things will happen, and they will all be horribly painful" and for once I was going to take her word for it.

Everyone else was drinking, though. And it looked like they were having quite a time - especially if even Hermione was drunk. "You see Ronald," she was talking to a point somewhere just to the left of my head. "This bottle-" she pointed to the empty bottle off butterbeer in her hand, "is empty. But this one-" she pointed slightly unco-ordinately at the same bottle, "is FULL!"

"Erm . . . that's nice, Hermione," I said. "Why don't you give me the empty bottle, and I'll-"

"Don't be silly Ronald!" Why in Merlin's name was she calling me Ronald all of a sudden? "There isn't a silly bottle. I mean, an empty Ronald." She rolled her eyes at me, and attempted to walk off, but tripped over her own feet.

"Whoopsie!" she giggled, as I had to catch her to prevent her from knocking over what looked like another Erumpnet Horn, which probably wasn't a safe item to have around a load of drunk teenagers.

I stood her upright, one arm around her waist to prevent her from falling over again. She looked straight ahead and blinked a few times. "Are . . . are you alright?" I asked, uncertainly.

She looked to her right and saw me there. "Oh, hello Ronald! I didn't realise you were there! I was just going to come and ask you if you wanted a drink!"

Hermione Granger wasn't just drunk - she was exceedingly drunk. And although it seemed rather amusing at first, it became rather un-amusing when it became apparent that she could no longer walk without falling over.

So I picked her up and carried her outside. Amazingly, she didn't protest, apart from moaning softly, but I think that this had more to do with the fact that she was so drunk that she was almost unaware of what was going on. I figured the fresh air would be good for her.

Once we got outside, I sat her down on a bench, where she continued to moan. _Accio_-ing a bottle of water from in the house, I sat down next to her. I opened the bottle and handed it to her. "Thanks Ron," she murmured.

"Welcome," I replied.

"You know what?" she asked.

"No idea. Tell," I said.

"I think I'm in love with you," she stated.

"I . . . pardon?" I had not been expecting that. Drunk people say many things - some of them amusing, some incomprehensible, and most just stupid. I had expected something like that to come out of her mouth. Or something along the lines of "I am never ever ever going to drink again!" That wouldn't have been a surprise, either.

But then, I reasoned, she has no idea that I have been in love with her for years - this is probably her "stupid drunkard" moment. No reason at all for me to get my hopes up.

Also, note to manners, please do not choose moment of girl-of-dreams declaring undying love to self to kick in, in future. Ta very much.

So, drunk Hermione tells me that she loves me, and I say "Pardon?". At least Mum would be happy.

However, it appeared that all was not lost. Yet.

"I think I have been in love with you for a very long time now, and I have been using your brothers to pretend I'm not," she continued.

Do not ever attempt to have a deep and meaningful conversation, about a serious topic (say, love, to pick one at not-quite-at-random) with a drunk person. It just will not work, mostly because you will not understand half the things that they say.

Even in her drunk state, Hermione must've realised that I was confused. "I think," she attempted to explain, "that I have been in love with you for a very long time. But I have been telling myself that I am in love with your brothers, 'cause I wasn't ready to admit it to myself yet."

Only Hermione could have a life-changing moment whilst she was drunk. Everyone else is always too busy concentrating on not throwing up, but Hermione can manage a spiritual epiphany.

But . . . hang on here just a moment -

"You were in love with my brothers?" I asked.

"Oh yes. All of them, at one point," she replied. "This bottle is empty." She held up the bottle of water she had been drinking from.

"But this one is full," I replied, summoning another from the kitchen, as well as one for myself.

"Huh?" she replied, obviously not remembering our conversation from earlier.

"Never mind," I answered.

She sat and sipped her water quietly for a few moments, obviously forgetting what we had just been talking about. I argued with myself for a few moments - did I really want to know the details about how she had fancied my brothers? - but curiosity killed the cat, and it looked like I was heading the same way, so . . .

"So, you were saying about my brothers . . . ?" I asked.

"Oh yes," Hermione nodded. "Percy was the first."

I had just taken a big mouthful of water, which I promptly choked on. "There's a spell that'll stop you choking . . . let me see if I can remember it . . . " Hermione said vaguely, pointing her wand in a rather alarming manner at my throat. I gently removed it from her grasp - I did not want to be the guinea pig for a drunk witch, even if she was Hermione.

"You . . . you . . . _you_ used to fancy _Percy_?!" I managed to splutter out.

"Oh yes," she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "In third year . . . when you and Harry weren't talking to me, I used to spend a lot of time in the library. Percy was there too, 'cause he was studying for N.E.W.T.s and it was quieter than the common room. He was always nice to me - he'd ask if he could sit at my table and if I was OK . . . he noticed you and Harry were ignoring me, and he asked, once or twice, if everything was OK . . . but I'd just pretend that I couldn't hear him. One day, he asked me to pick a present out of some he'd selected, for Penelope, his girlfriend . . . and even though it was for his girlfriend, that was the best day of my life to date, 'cause it was the longest conversation we'd ever had."

She smiled slightly, miles away. "'Course, I knew straight away that there was nothing that could happen between us. He had a girlfriend . . . a properly nice, gorgeous girlfriend. I was in third year; he was in seventh. What would a seventh year want with a third year? And . . . well, he wasn't a hunk even then . . . but I don't think he'd have wanted me . . . given what _I _look like. But every time he spoke to me . . . or when I came around a corner, and saw him unexpectedly . . . I just had this feeling in my stomach . . . this nice, warm bubbly feeling. I had _such_ a crush on him."

I was torn between wanting, somehow, to make her see that she is - and was - beautiful (how could she not see it?), and wanting to rip Percy's toenails off because Hermione fancied him and not me.

"But then-" she continued, taking another sip of her water, "it was the summer holiday before our fourth year, and I came to your house to go to the Quidditch World Cup. And one morning, I was heading to the bathroom, and I saw Charlie coming out, and he was only wearing a pair of jeans, and he winked at me, and I just . . . well, that was it. It was a kind of Percy-antidote."

Did she have any idea - any idea _at all_ - what this was doing to me? Listening to her talk about how kind Percy was to her, when I was busy being a bastard, and then listening to her going on about Charlie, when he was topless? So I decided to put a stop to it. I didn't want to listen anymore.

"What's a Percy-antidote?" I asked. (Damn it mouth! Listen to brain!)

"I knew I had to stop fancying Percy, 'cause I wasn't really going to see him much, unless I was at the Burrow, and I wasn't going to be there very often. And anyway, he had a girlfriend. And I needed someone closer to my own age. Anyway, so, I'd just made up my mind about this, when I saw Charlie without his shirt on. And he winked at me! I mean, no-one had every winked at me before!" Hermione gave a laugh that was almost a giggle.

(Note-to-self: wink at Hermione more often.)

"And when I blushed, he only laughed at me. So, for the rest of the summer, I was madly head-over-heels in love with Charlie. 'Course, nothing happened. Well, it did," she hastily corrected herself, "but we just flirted a bit, that's all. He was so nice . . . he never pushed things or tried to take advantage of me, like some people would've. But his personality and looks and everything . . . he was just like the complete opposite of Percy!"

They had spent the summer flirting? I hadn't noticed . . .

"But I had to forget him when we went back to school, 'cause obviously, he wasn't going to be there, and I wasn't going to see him again for ages. I don't think there was anyone I actually fancied that much, in fourth year," she continued. "I know you thought I was in love with Viktor Krum . . . but I have never actually liked him as more than a friend. And, of course, I was incredibly mad with you again, for a good part of that year, for not actually realising that I was a girl!"

She glared at me, and I tried not to cower. How stupid was I? She had been right there in front of my nose . . . and I hadn't seen it, all year. I was too busy ogling Fleur.

"Anyway, then it was the summer, and I was with you all at Grimmauld Place. I think I had a bit of a crush on Bill at that point . . . but it wasn't as strong as it had been for Percy and Charlie, and I think he only spoke to me about three times in the entire summer. And I got over him pretty quickly," she said.

Hmm, perhaps I wouldn't kill Bill. Well, maybe I still would, but he could have a quick and painless death. Percy's would be quite drawn out, and Charlie's would go on for years. I can't believe he had the nerve to flirt with her!

"Then it was fifth year, and I fell in love with the twins," Hermione said. I was wondering when they would show up in her tale. "I know I spent the best part of the year yelling at them, but secretly I was in love with them. That's a bit wrong, really, isn't - being in love with two people at once? And I think they both knew that I fancied them, so maybe it wasn't so secret . . ."

She trailed off. "And . . . what about sixth year?" I ventured.

"In sixth year I was in love with this complete dolt who didn't realise it, and made me incredibly mad by refusing to go out with me," she answered. "And I've remained in love with him ever since."

I couldn't help it. I broke into a huge smile. Hermione smiled back at me tentatively,

Then I was leaning towards her, and she was leaning towards me, and her eyes were closing and so were mine, and her lips touched mine so briefly and --

-- and then I pulled away.

"Wha . . .?" Hermione said , the confusion in her face quickly turning to surprise, then anger, then hurt. "I . . . I thought you . . . felt the same way?"

"Oh, I do," I replied. "I really, really do. But I'm not going to do this when you're drunk, Hermione." This was killing me inside. "I love you so, so much Hermione Granger, but I'm not going to take advantage of a drunk girl - especially as you're going to regret this enough in the morning as it is."

"Ron, I'm not drunk," she said, smiling slightly.

"Yes, you are Hermione. You couldn't walk in a straight line twenty minutes ago," I replied.

"Yes, I _was_ drunk," she said. "But it wasn't water I was drinking just now."

"Um, yes, it was. I summoned it for you; I should know," I said, starting to get angry. She couldn't doubt my magical ability to _summon _things, for Merlin's sake.

"No, Ron, listen to me! I made a potion and put it in the water bottles - it acts to kind of . . . dissolve is the best word, really, the alcohol in your body. So if a drunk person drinks it, they just become un-drunk. Apparently, it doesn't stop you having a hangover in the morning though," she pulled a face.

"Well, what's it going to do to me then, seeing as I wasn't drunk?" I was still fairly pissed off with her, though I wasn't quite sure what for.

"Nothing. That's the beauty of it. You add it to water, or pumpkin juice or whatever, and it only becomes activated once it gets inside you and senses the alcohol. So, if you're not drunk, you're basically just drinking normal water, or pumpkin juice, or whatever," she replied.

I was impressed. "Where did you learn that?" I asked her.

"Potions, in the seventh year, when I re-took," she answered. "It's not _that_ complicated actually - they just save the teaching of it until seventh 'cause they figure that's when you're least likely to use it as an excuse to abuse alcohol. Anyway, I thought I'd make some tonight, seeing as how people were likely to get very drunk, and add it to the water. I just didn't think I'd end up needing it myself, that's all!"

"You," I said, "are amazing."

"Why, thank you, Ronald," she replied.

"So."

"So."

"Where were we?"

"Here, I think," she said, and leaned towards me.

I pulled her closer.

We kissed.

The house exploded.

"Wha . . .?" said Hermione, for the second time, pulling away and surveying the rubble.

"It'll just be the Erumpnet Horn," I said, dismissively.

"Oh," she replied, and kissed me some more.

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**A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Just some light relief 'cause I've finished my exams (yay!) and my summer hols have started and I'm bored :P Drop me a review? Thanks x **


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